


My Body Is Your Body

by dear_monday



Category: Bandom, LeATHERMØUTH, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Barebacking, Body Image, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-05-04
Packaged: 2017-11-04 20:12:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dear_monday/pseuds/dear_monday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Making friends, huh?" Frank fucking <i>purrs</i>. Gerard immediately starts shaking his head to deny it, but Frank digs his fingers warningly into Gerard's shoulder and he stops. He sees the bartender register the possessive gesture, the little light bulb that appears above his head as he puts two and two together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Body Is Your Body

**Author's Note:**

> **warnings for jealous/possessive behaviour, mild verbal humiliation and D/s undertones.**
> 
>  
> 
> For all the fabulous tumblr people who legit _petitioned_ me to write this. YOU GUYS. ♥

  
  
  
Frank's on fire tonight, spitting venom like screaming hard enough will kick his demons out of him. He's always been the kind of guy to throw himself into things headfirst with everything he's got, sometimes literally, but this is-- fucking hell, this is something else. Gerard's been counting down the days until he could come out and see Frank on tour with his new band, obsessively trawling YouTube for grainy unofficial videos recorded by the kids at the shows. If he's honest, he's jacked off a few times sitting in front of his laptop to shitty low-resolution videos of Frank ripping himself apart onstage on the screen. Well. Okay, maybe more than a few times.  
  
None of the videos have got anything on this, though. Frank's always seemed like he's got too much _life_ in him for just one person. He's fucking electric, Gerard can't take his eyes off him. He's sweating through his shirt, the one Gerard remembers watching him draw the Ø symbol on. Gerard wants to peel that stupid shirt off him and lick over all his tatts, re-familiarize himself with all the shapes and the colors.  
  
Frank's down on his knees, pouring his heart and soul out with his eyes screwed shut and the mic cable looped around his neck. There's so much anger in him, he's screaming like it's burning him up from the inside out.  
  
It's fucking hot.  
  
Gerard knows Frank's still getting used to the weight he's put on. He squirms and whines and tries to distract Gerard whenever he goes for the flesh that spills over the waistband of his jeans, but Gerard not-so-secretly kind of loves it. He likes the idea of Frank being able to hold him down and manhandle him, push him around and use him however he wants.  
  
Gerard fidgets around on his barstool, getting comfortable and twisting the straw in his soda between his fingers while he watches the show.  
  
  


*

  
  
Afterwards, he stays at the bar while the crowd filters out. They're all sweaty and grinning in that loose, easy way that Gerard recognizes as the post-show high. He feels a sudden, unexpected stab of pride that Frank's doing what he's best at and giving people that buzz. Frank belongs on the stage, with or without a guitar over his shoulder.  
  
Gerard orders another drink while he waits. The bartender's young and cute, just the type Gerard would have tried to pick up for the night before he finally got it together with Frank. He's been watching Gerard all night, probably trying to work out where he knows him from. Gerard's dyed his hair brown again and let it grow out of the Black Parade crop, and he's dressed as normally as he ever is in jeans and an oversized hoodie. He didn't want to get mobbed, not tonight. He's glad his cunning disguise seems to be working so far.  
  
"Waiting for someone?" Cute Bartender asks, and of _course_ that's the moment when a hand falls on Gerard's shoulder and a hot body presses up close behind him. Gerard's heartbeat quickens. It's _Frank_ , he's right there and Gerard just wants to fucking touch him, wants to cling to him and bury his face in Frank's neck and lose himself in the way he smells.  
  
"Making friends, huh?" Frank fucking _purrs_. Gerard immediately starts shaking his head to deny it, but Frank digs his fingers warningly into Gerard's shoulder and he stops. He sees the bartender register the possessive gesture, the little light bulb that appears above his head as he puts two and two together.  
  
"You know something?" Frank's mouth is hot by Gerard's ear. "Fuck going for dinner, I'm not hungry. Let's get out of here."  
  
He puts his other hand on the small of Gerard's back and shoves him towards the door. The hotel is just around the corner from the club and Frank walks fast, keeping his fingers hooked into the waistband of Gerard's jeans. Frank's pissed off enough as it is and Gerard doesn't want to make it worse by speaking first, but the anticipation is almost physically painful.  
  
Frank guides him through the hotel's reception and over to the elevators, and Gerard's stomach flips. Frank keeps his poker face up until the second the doors close on them, and that's when the tension finally shatters. Frank surges forwards and shoves Gerard hard, slamming him against the mirrored wall and kissing him like he's got a point to prove. Gerard can't help himself, he parts his lips and lets Frank in. He groans into Frank's mouth, feeling pinned in place by Frank's weight.  
  
"Shit, you even kiss like a fuckin' whore," Frank rumbles, low in his chest, and Gerard whines, heat surging through him. Frank knows just how to play him, his fingers pressing on Gerard's frets and plucking at his strings to make the chords he wants. "Is this what happens when I turn my back, huh? Can't take my eyes off you for a minute or you'll spread your fuckin' legs for anyone."  
  
"Fuck, _Frank_ ," Gerard says weakly, as Frank starts sucking a hickey onto the side of his neck.  
  
"You know who you belong to, or am I gonna have to remind you?"  
  
"Yours," Gerard babbles. He can feel Frank's dick hot and hard against his hip as Frank pushes his thigh between Gerard's. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Frank, _yours_ \--"  
  
And then the elevator doors slide open. Frank doesn't step back, just looks up with a challenge in his eyes. A woman in a rumpled skirt suit looks at them oddly, and Frank smiles lazily at her.  
  
"C'mon," he says to Gerard, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out into the hallway. Frank pulls a key out of his pocket and unlocks one of the rooms, yanking Gerard through after him. He pushes Gerard backwards and he falls blindly back onto the bed, feeling Frank's eyes skimming hungrily over him.  
  
"Gorgeous," Frank says roughly as he unzips his jeans. "So fuckin' pretty, god, no wonder everyone who sees you wants to fuck you."  
  
Gerard's breath catches. He wants Frank _now_ , wants to feel him and taste him and lose himself in the person he's been missing like crazy for the last two months, one week and five days. Not that he's been counting.  
  
Frank kicks his pants off, all scraped knees and soft thighs, his hips ringed with a faint red line where his waistband was cutting in. He climbs onto the bed, his knees bracketing Gerard's hips and stopping with his mouth just a breath away from Gerard's, and Gerard's train of thought just _stops_. They've talked on the phone, traded texts and pictures when Frank's had time, but nothing beats having Frank _there_ with him, hot and alive. Frank darts in for a kiss, tugging at Gerard's lip with his teeth, then pulls back with a feral grin.  
  
"On your back," he says. "Missed that pretty mouth of yours."  
  
Gerard leans back obediently, Frank's solid weight pinning his hips down, then Frank moves up until his cock is inches from Gerard's open mouth, hard and flushed. Gerard licks his lips. His arms are trapped by his sides, pressed against the softness of Frank's thighs. He loves this, the dizzy weightlessness that comes from giving up all control to Frank.  
  
Frank edges closer. Gerard can fucking _smell_ him and he wants more, he wants to taste him and feel the weight of him on his tongue.  
  
"Open wide," Frank says. Gerard does, and Frank guides his cock into Gerard's mouth. Gerard yields, letting him in, and Frank groans.  
  
"Fuckin' love sitting on your face," he says. "God, look at you. Look at you just fucking _taking_ it like you can't fucking get enough, Jesus _Christ_."  
  
Gerard moans around him. He can't help himself, he _does_ love this. He loves Frank using him, taking what he wants. He tries to relax his throat, letting Frank push further in, and Frank starts fucking his mouth in earnest. Just the taste of him is heady and crazy-making and okay, maybe he does have a bit of a thing about sucking cock. Frank is looking down at him with hot, hungry eyes and there's spit all around Gerard's mouth, some of it running down his chin.  
  
" _Mine_ ," Frank says again. "Want you to think about this every time you open your mouth tomorrow."  
  
He thrusts in deeper and Gerard gags, his throat fluttering around Frank's cock. He is, he's totally and completely Frank's right now and there's no one he'd rather belong to.  
  
"Okay." Frank's breathing hard, sweat shining on his skin. "Enough, I wanna fuck you. I'm fuckin' sick of jacking off thinking about your ass."  
  
Gerard's only answer to that is _yes fucking please_. He's been doing the best he can with vibrators and dildos and his own fingers, but nothing he's tried is anywhere near as good as Frank fucking him. He lets Frank's cock slip out of his mouth, and Frank scrambles off him. Gerard is seriously tenting his jeans, and the headrush that hits him when he stands up nearly makes him fall right back down again. Frank grabs him and throws him against the wall, this time so his chest is pressed to the beige paint. Frank yanks his jeans and boxers away and tosses them onto the bed with a noise of impatience. He kicks Gerard's feet apart and grabs his ass, his thumbs digging in as he spreads Gerard's cheeks apart and inhales sharply.  
  
Gerard pushes back into the touch with a low, involuntary moan. God, he's missed this. He wants to feel Frank filling him up and claiming him, wants the closeness and the overwhelming intimacy. There's just something about knowing he's as close to Frank as he could possibly be without crawling under his skin.  
  
Frank leans in, his teeth scraping the shell of Gerard's ear and the soft flesh of his belly pressed against Gerard's back and pinning him in place. "Gonna fuck you so hard you're gonna be walking funny for _days_ ," he says, his voice low and dark. "Maybe then people'll know to keep their fucking hands off you."  
  
Gerard whimpers. This fucking teasing is driving him insane, he wants Frank to stop talking and just fuck him already. He's too close already, hard as a rock and leaking like a motherfucker just from sucking Frank's cock.  
  
Frank takes one hand off Gerard's ass and grabs the lube from the nightstand. Gerard settles his feet a little further apart, pressing his chest to the wall and letting out a soft, raw noise when Frank pushes a finger into him. Frank isn't going slow, and he adds another finger and starts to work them in and out, opening Gerard up so he'll be able to take it. Frank's fingers hit Gerard's prostate and he groans, sounding fucking obscene even to his own ears, and Frank makes an answering noise.  
  
"You sure know how to put on a show," he says. "You been practicing while I've been away?"  
  
Gerard's breath hitches and Frank slides his fingers out. A shiver coils in the pit of Gerard's stomach. This is how he likes it best, when Frank hasn't spent quite enough time stretching him and there's that edge of pain everything feel even more intense.  
  
Behind him, Frank squeezes more lube out into his hand and slicks himself up while Gerard waits, practically fucking quivering with anticipation. Frank curls one hand around his hip and flattens the other one between his shoulderblades, holding him in place, then lines himself up and drives in. Gerard can feel the drag of every inch of Frank's cock inside him, just on the knife edge of too much and, god, so fucking good.  
  
"Oh, god," he says weakly, trying to push back, greedy for more.  
  
Frank fucking _growls_ and shoves him, trapping him against the wall. "Uh uh," he grits out, slamming in hard and making Gerard mewl and squirm. "You're not in charge here, remember?"  
  
Gerard doesn't think he'd be able to forget that even if he wanted to. He feels totally surrounded by Frank, who's moaning and spilling filth into his ear, hot and damp with sweat against his back. Frank's never been one for holding back. He's fucking Gerard hard and fast, holding him to the wall and just taking what he wants. The room is full of the sharp slap of skin-on-skin, Frank's wrecked voice telling him how good he feels, Gerard's own pornographic gasps and moans. Frank wasn't kidding, Gerard really is going to be feeling this for days. The thought makes him whimper, his cock twitching against his belly.  
  
"You should see yourself," Frank murmurs, right in his ear. "Fuckin' gorgeous."  
  
Gerard knows what he must look like right now, up against the wall with his legs spread wide as Frank fucks him. He always forgets how good it is like this - as awesome as it is to be able to see Frank's o-face, getting fucked from behind always feels dirtier, hotter.  
  
Frank thrusts in hard with a string of obscenities then pulls all the way out, and Gerard feels Frank's come striping his ass.  
  
"Oh, _fuck_ ," he hears himself gasp as Frank moans behind him. Frank grabs his shoulder and pulls him away from the wall, spinning him round. He yanks Gerard closer, running his filthy mouth the whole time, and the relief of his hand on Gerard's cock is so intense and just so _much_ that the noise Gerard lets out is more sob than moan.  
  
"Fuckin' love you," Frank says indistinctly, his face pressed into Gerard's shoulder while he jacks him, and Gerard bucks into the tight circle of his fingers one more time before he comes all over his hand. Frank keeps stroking him through it, making encouraging noises, and he doesn't stop until Gerard's loose-limbed and over-sensitized. Frank tugs at him and they both flop down onto the bed, too tired and fucked-out to move from where they fall. Frank wriggles closer and nuzzles into Gerard's neck, and one corner of Gerard's mouth quirks up.  
  
Frank cracks a suspicious eye open. "What's that smile for, motherfucker?"  
  
"Nothing," says Gerard, and Frank lets it slide. What's making him smile is the way Frank can call him a whore and fuck him up against a wall and still be a cuddler at heart. "Missed you, is all."  
  
"Damn right you missed me, fucker." Frank sticks his tongue out at Gerard, still clinging to his side like a limpet. For someone who's so weirdly clean most of the time, Frank's never unwilling to get gross and sticky and roll around in the wet spot.  
  
"Missed you too," Frank mumbles a long moment later, and Gerard's stomach flips like it did the first time Frank found him hiding from the party crowd, his eyes glittering, and asked Gerard if he wanted to make out.  
  
"Okay." Frank untangles his legs from Gerard's and heaves himself upright, stretching like a cat. Gerard's eyes snag on the new curves of his belly, his thighs, his hips, the ink sprawled all over his skin. God, he's fucking beautiful. "Soap and water time, come on," he says, grinning when Gerard covers his eyes and groans. "I'll blow you in the shower."

 


End file.
